A Scandalous Marriage (13 page)

“My grandfather is dying, Leah.”

His words sucked the air out of the room. She sat on the bed. “Dying?”

“The family has contacted me. I was supposed to be in London last night, if possible. I was taking a shortcut when Gallant threw a shoe. That’s how I ended up here.”

“Dying?” No one close to her had ever died. Of course, the marquess of Kirkeby wasn’t in her immediate circle, but his personality had loomed large in her life. He was the “dreaded enemy.” His presence had tainted every decision her family had ever made.

As if reading her mind, Devon said, “It’s hard to imagine, isn’t it? I thought he would live forever. And now I’m not going to him without you and Ben. Now let us marry.”

Blunt and businesslike. It was hard to believe that this man had been the same one who’d laughed with her a year ago. “Devon, you don’t want to marry me.”

“I’m not leaving you behind, Leah. You heard Mrs. Pitney. Do you really wish to expose Ben to the bastard’s life?”

“But why should you care?” she asked quietly.

Devon’s gaze fell on the child. He reached out almost timidly and placed his hand on the baby’s back. “I gave him life.” He met Leah’s eyes. “I felt him draw his first breath. I don’t care who fathered him. I have more claim to him than any other man.”

A chill of disappointment swept through Leah. She realized she had been anticipating another answer. A more personal one. Once, he had begged her to run away with him because he loved her.

He had not spoken of love since they’d seen each other again.

At her continued silence, he said, “Nor do I worry what country folk or even the ton think of me. I’m Huxhold. I make my own rules.”

She nodded, her heart heavy. “What of your other children?”

“What other children?”

Leah looked away from him. “It’s well known that you have fathered children off at least a half dozen of your mistresses.”

“
Only
half a dozen mistresses? What did I do with the rest?”

He mocked her. Her temper flared. She stood. “I’m happy I amuse you, my lord.”

“Leah, don’t pout. I’m just amazed you listen to the gossips. At one time, we knew each other better than that.”

“There are times I believed I barely knew you at all.”

That mark hit home. “Then we are equal,” he answered. “You’ve more than surprised me too.”

“That wasn’t my purpose,” she replied stiffly.

“Nor mine.” He raked his fingers through his hair. She remembered that he’d had very little sleep the night before. He’d been busy on her behalf… and she’d not yet said thank you.

But the words died in her throat when he said, “Leah, I have no children.”

“What?” Her regrets over her churlish behavior vanished. “But everyone says that you have a host or more. You’re famous.”

“
In
famous is more like it,” he said, his eyes glittering with self-mockery. “I know what they say, Leah, but I also know who I am. I’ve had the keeping of three mistresses,
one at a time.
I pay my bills. Honor on my word. And have never sired a child out of wedlock. Not one. Disappointed?” he asked cynically.

His jab stirred her conscience, but not enough to prevent her from pointing out, “That doesn’t mean you are good material for a husband.”

“Well let me call Adam back,” he snapped.

“I wasn’t comparing the two of you,” she answered curtly. She began swaying, gently rocking her son while standing in place. “Regardless of who I marry, I lose all my freedom. That is a sobering thought.”

He raised one eyebrow and glanced around the room, his actions saying louder than words that he didn’t think much of her present freedom.

“It isn’t a great deal,” she agreed. “But it was mine. I was attempting change, Devon, to change for the sake of my child.”

“Then continue on the bold course, Leah, promise Ben will not lack for anything.”

Leah stopped rocking.
What about us, Devon
she wanted to ask.
What will happen to us?
But those were questions she couldn’t ask. She feared the answers. Instead, she pushed aside her personal thoughts and considered the situation for Ben.

Devon was right. Her romantic nature wanted to believe she could pursue her own path; her common sense warned her she and Ben would starve. “Will you claim Ben as your own?”

“I will.”

“But he cannot inherit the title.”

He shifted. He’d obviously thought that far. “No. The family would never allow that. Rex or one of his sons will inherit from me.”

“Or one of
our
children.” There, she’d said it.

It was the closest she dared go toward discussing intimacy between them.

Suddenly the air vibrated with memories of the passionate hunger that had once existed between them.

Leah didn’t flinch. She was a woman now. A woman with a child for whom she would do what she had to do.

Instead, it was Devon who took several uneasy steps toward the window and placed distance between them. A frown had formed on his forehead. “Or ours,” he repeated, his voice so low she could barely hear him. “Let us worry about that when it happens.”

She sensed there was something he wasn’t telling her and then decided it was her own hypersensitivity to the subject. “What of the feud between our families?”

“It ends with Ben,” came his hard reply.

“You and I can agree to that, but will your grandfather?”

“Or Julian?” He sounded exasperated. “Leah, I can’t promise you that everything will be rosy in the future. I don’t know what the future holds. I do know that I won’t have Ben living hand-to-mouth. For once, think of someone other than yourself. Think of your son.”

“That isn’t fair! I am thinking of Ben. There will be much gossip. I have been missing for months. And when I show up married to a Marshall, our ancestors will spin in their graves and tongues will wag.”

“Tongues will always wag. However, you will return to London a viscountess. You won’t have to answer to anyone. And if you play your cards right, you may soon be a marchioness.” There was no disguising the bitterness in his voice.

“If it was money and a title I wished, I could have married Tiebauld,” she responded proudly. “Take your offer to the devil. I won’t marry you.” She would have charged out of the room, but he stepped in her path.

“You would refuse me? For nothing more than your own pride?”

His words pinned her to the spot. She had no answer.

Suddenly, the tension left him. He reached out and ran the back of his hand over the baby’s downy head. “May I hold him—or am I not allowed to do that either?”

She should tell him no, but she couldn’t. Silently, she gave Ben up.

Devon held the child as if it were the most precious gift in the world. He put the baby to his shoulder and almost immediately started rocking gently back and forth the way she had rocked her only moments ago.

Few men would be a better father than Devon with his joy of life and good humor.

He smiled at her, a hint of self-consciousness in his expression. “Ben proved he’s a fighter last night, didn’t he? He’ll grow up to be a fine man.”

Leah felt herself relent. “If we do marry, what will we tell people about his birth?”

“A bit of the truth and a bit of a lie. How many people would suspect Draycutt is the father?”

“I don’t know. I only confided in one friend, Tess Hamlin, and she is in Wales. But people knew he was courting me.”

“There’s been a herd of men courting you, Leah.”

“Yes,” she agreed tightly. “Your point?”

Devon shrugged. He focused on something in his own mind before saying, “How many people knew Draycutt or would have registered his death in their minds?”

“Few. He was in Essex when it happened.”

“Then we tell the truth. Ben is Draycutt’s son, and you ran away with him.”

“But I didn’t.”

“It doesn’t matter. We will put out that you and Draycutt were married clandestinely—”

“And he had an affair with another man’s wife and was shot by the husband,” she finished sarcastically.

“That doesn’t flatter me, does it?”

“No. But it is the truth.”

And, she realized, few people would question it. “But you’ve already told the villagers that Ben’s last name is Marshall.”

“I said it for convenience.”

“Then why not say he is yours? Why bring up Draycutt at all?”

“Because the dates aren’t right, Leah,” he said flatly, but she sensed there was something else. Ben wasn’t his… and intuition warned her that Devon was sensitive to that fact.

“Everyone in London knows about the duel and that I left the city immediately. They have only to figure the date and count nine months. It won’t fly.”

“All right,” Leah agreed. “But I still don’t feel comfortable about this. I don’t like secrets.”

“Everyone has them,” Devon answered dismissively.

“That doesn’t mean they are easy to live with.”

“No,” he agreed, “but then, our marriage won’t be easy either. We will not be a love match, Leah.

There’s too much between us. You are free to go your way. I ask that you are discreet.”

His words shocked her. She’d never expected such from Devon. “Why?”

He didn’t answer, his features set.

“You don’t say anything, but I think I know. You wish to punish me.”

“It’s nothing like that,” he quickly denied.

“Then is it Draycutt? That I chose another?”

“It’s many things. I loved you once. But time changes one’s affections. If we marry, it will be for Ben and Ben alone.”

His blunt words rocked her back. “I see.” She added grimly, “Now I understand why you are not worried about
our
children inheriting.”

He shrugged, his expression guarded.

His indifference told her more than words that the love he’d once felt for her, the love she had rejected, no longer existed. Last night, when she had feared she was going to die, she’d desperately confessed her feelings.

He had not responded in kind.

She knew why now. He did not love her anymore.

But he loved her son.

Tears clouded her vision. She crossed her arms and looked away.

He was right. She should think with her head and not her heart. Devon would take care of them. Any other man would have abandoned her yesterday. Devon had stayed. If not for him, both she and Ben would have died.

She glanced back and noticed the way his fingertips gently stroked the back of the baby’s head. What right did she have to deny Ben such a father?

“I will marry you.”

If he was happy or had doubts, she couldn’t tell. His expression did not change. He nodded. “Fine. Let us see the deed done and be on our way.”

That was it. No glad declarations, no giddy promises.

With an efficiency that would have made a field officer proud, he threw open the curtain, Ben still in his arms. Old Edith had made tea, and the vicar and his wife joined her around the table.

“Miss Carrollton does me the honor of giving me her hand in marriage,” Devon said formally. “Let us start the ceremony before she changes her mind.”

His quip irritated her, but Old Edith and Mrs. Wright were so pleased that no one noticed her feelings—or cared.

Devon held the baby. Mrs. Wright and Old Edith stood as their witnesses.

The room grew suddenly close. Leah found it difficult to breathe. She reminded herself that she was doing this for Ben. Ben. It was a good name, but she feared her family’s reaction.

And yet, they weren’t here. They had not supported her when she’d needed them most.

From this marriage, she would gain respectability and security for herself and her son… but what was Devon receiving?

The question tormented her as the vicar read the marriage ceremony from a small black book. Every debutante had dreamed of hearing these words and knew them almost by heart. Leah was no different.

Devon repeated his vows in a clear, strong voice. He did not look at Leah the whole time he said them.

Her tongue stumbled and tripped over the simplest of the vows. Her knees shook, and she knew it wasn’t from fatigue.

She and Devon never touched.

Vicar Wright paused. He looked over his gold frames to Devon. “It is here I customarily bless the rings if there are any.”

“Use this.” Devon handed Ben to Old Edith before removing his signet from his left ring finger. Carved in the face of the heavy gold was a leaping stag and the Marshall family motto,
Je reviens.
“Let her wear this until I can have something made in London.”

The vicar passed his hand over the ring, blessing it. “You may now place it on the bride’s hand.”

At last, they were forced to face each other. Leah held out her hand. It trembled.

If Devon noticed, he gave no indication.

As he held her hand in his and repeated Vicar Wright’s words, she remembered the night of the masquerade. “Hold out your hand,” he had said, and what had flowed between them had been something real, something magic.

She didn’t feel the magic now.

Devon fitted the ring on her finger. It was too large. She made a fist to hold it in place, the cold weight of it as heavy as her heart.

What was she doing?

And then, before she realized it, the vicar said the final blessing that bound them together as man and wife for an eternity.

It had taken minutes.

Her head bowed, she stole a look in Devon’s direction. He seemed to concentrate on a point beyond the vicar’s shoulder. She wanted to weep, but she was done with crying. She’d made her decision.

At that moment, Ben woke and started crying.

Leah’s breasts immediately tightened uncomfortably. Her milk was in.

“Just the right timing,” Vicar Wright said with satisfaction as he closed the book.

“The baby’s hungry,” Old Edith announced. “Go along, Leah. You should feed him before you leave.”

Leah welcomed the opportunity to escape to the bedroom. She overheard Devon say, “We’ll leave the moment she is done.”

“Aye, my lord,” Old Edith answered. “And you be careful with the lass. I don’t want her coming down with childbed fever. It’s not wise for her to travel.”

“I have no choice.”